I Became the Sultan of the Ottoman Empire

Justification?(3)

Bozkurt couldn’t even crumple the paper in his hand and yelled out loud.

It had hardly been a few hours since he heard that the Ottoman Army and his own tribe were engaged in battle.

He hadn’t even grasped the exact situation yet, but when he saw the letter brought by the Ottoman envoy, he felt dazed.

“Declaration of war?! Us?”

Bozkurt was so cowardly that he had fled without putting up a fight when the Safavids attacked.

And now, rather than plundering the relatively easy supply lines, he had no intention of confronting the Ottoman Army head-on; it was truly a bolt from the blue.

Both sides had casualties, so he couldn’t even make excuses.

Hearing Bozkurt’s outcry, the Ottoman envoy growled.

“Did you just say the Padishah is talking nonsense?”

“N-no, that’s not it!”

“Then what? Did I mishear you?”

The envoy, who had come to declare war, was half in Allah’s hands, but having already prepared for death, he spoke arrogantly.

Cornered, Bozkurt had a strong desire to behead the envoy but knew very well that acting on it would lead to irreversible consequences.

Exercising patience, he quickly changed the subject.

“That’s not the important issue right now. What do you mean we declared war? The casualties are certainly greater on our side!”

“That’s due to your incompetence.”

Bozkurt was left speechless by the envoy’s mocking words.

They had twice the number of soldiers than the Ottomans, but the exchange rate was 3:1, so he couldn’t come up with a counterargument.

As feelings of injustice swelled in his aged face, the envoy continued speaking.

“What’s important is that there were casualties on our side. I don’t believe you will simply say that around 200 soldiers just happened to be passing by.”

“I wouldn’t know about that.”

“That’s remarkably incompetent.”

With the envoy’s sharp retort, Bozkurt’s hands trembled with anger.

He thought that even if he couldn’t kill him, he could at least take off an arm or a leg.

To stand in for his father, who looked like he would explode any moment, his son Shahruh Bey stepped forward anxiously.

Attacking the envoy, who appeared desperate to die, would only give them a valid reason to escalate the conflict.

“I understand that the Padishah is angry. But think about it. How could we attack the Ottoman Army which we allowed to pass? If we truly intended to attack, we would have set traps.”

In terms of logic, Shahruh’s words made sense.

It would be normal to set traps and deal significant damage instead of openly declaring war, which would provoke them.

To Shahruh’s reasonable statement, the envoy replied coldly.

“How could we know why you did such things? And I’m merely a messenger conveying the Padishah’s words.”

“…Did it really have to come to this? We will adequately compensate for the victims.”

“The Padishah said that if you speak like that, you should respond this way.”

At this, the envoy twisted his lips.

“Blood can only be repaid with blood.”

“Blood only begets blood!”

He shouted a common Arab proverb, but the envoy, having already said what he needed to, turned to leave with one last comment.

“Too late. The Padishah has already taken action.”

The letter that Bozkurt had been unable to crumple in front of the envoy was now brutally mangled.

Like the future of Dulqadir.

*

Rough dirt dust began to rise.

The more than ten thousand Sipahi quickly packed only a few days’ worth of food and moved south.

It would not be surprising if they complained about the forced march that had lasted three days, but they had no such thoughts in their heads.

“The place the Padishah spoke of isn’t far now!”

Dukagincade Ahmed Pasha, the Beylerbey of Anatolia, thought about the distance remaining.

The reason he had only brought ten thousand soldiers from the advancing 40,000 was that they needed to quickly occupy Ain Tab.

‘We must seize Ain Tab before the news reaches them.’

If they failed to occupy Ain Tab in time, Bozkurt could flee to the Mamluks, or the Mamluks could seize it first.

It was a vital stronghold to halt the Mamluks’ advance, and losing it could lead to grave disappointment for the Sultan.

Thinking that he could become the main culprit for ruining the plan, the Sipahi ran tirelessly without any sign of exhaustion and eventually reached their destination.

“That’s the place.”

Arriving at the destination through a treacherous path created solely by human footsteps rather than an official road, Dukagincade lifted his head.

The city was overall small.

Estimating through the number of households, the entire population seemed to be less than three thousand at most.

Of course, considering the surrounding farmers they passed during the march, the number would increase, but still, it wouldn’t even reach half the number of soldiers they had brought along.

-Bang bang bang! Bang!

“They noticed us quickly.”

Dukagincade scoffed.

The fortress, located in the center of Ain Tab, was splendid compared to the small village.

Though the fortress was built over a thousand years ago, it had undergone renovations and expansions, resulting in a sturdy stronghold with a perimeter of over 1km and 12 towers.

However, no matter how magnificent the fortress, if those inside are incompetent, it’s no better than a sandcastle.

“What will you do? Shall we wait for the follow-up troops?”

Having arrived first, there was time to wait for the 30,000 strong follow-up force with cannons, but Dukagincade shook his head.

“We go directly to the fortress.”

Of course, he had no intention of conducting a siege with the cavalry Sipahi.

The fortress, built on a high earthen hill, was tough to even reach the walls.

Alerted by the alarm, the subjects living here could not properly flee into the fortress and were huddled in their homes.

Fearful gazes poured from within the buildings, but ignoring them, Dukagincade stood in front of the fortress.

-Who are these guys?!

Were there even just 300 troops in the fortress?

The sight of them trembling with spears gripped on the walls was quite pitiful, and in response to the question from the fortress, Dukagincade answered shamelessly.

“We are the Imperial Army that comes to this place under the great Padishah’s will. We have received permission for the use of the fortress from Bey Bozkurt!”

For a moment, the sound of murmurs could be heard, and soon a reply came back.

-We have not received such correspondence!

“Are you telling us to disregard the Padishah’s orders and turn back? Can you take responsibility for that statement?!”

At this, the lord of the fortress broke into a cold sweat.

Though it was a small city in the borderlands, it wasn’t unaware of the Ottoman’s reputation.

The forces that had just arrived would be more than enough to turn the town into a sea of flames, and opening his mouth with a softened tone, he spoke.

-Evidence! Do you have evidence?

“No! It’s your responsibility for not receiving the correspondence!”

The response from the other side was so brazen that the lord’s head instantly became complicated.

It seemed suspicious, but in his heart, he hoped they were right.

He couldn’t bear to imagine the idea of having so many troops be a threat.

The words he spat out afterward could be seen as infused with a glimmer of hope.

-I swear to Allah that your words are true?!

“I swear!”

Without a moment’s thought, Dukagincade’s reply made his subordinates’ eyes widen.

They were surprised he would dare to invoke Allah in a lie, and the fortress gates began to creak open, while the subordinates spoke with concern.

“Beylerbey, are you really alright with this?”

Even though Yusuf, unlike the previous Padishah, showed little interest in Islam, such a statement could become problematic if things went awry.

“The Padishah said, if it could reduce friendly casualties, I should be able to sell even the name of Allah.”

Upon hearing this response, his subordinates were taken aback.

It was shocking enough that a Padishah would say such a thing, but Dukagincade didn’t seem normal for executing it either.

Without shedding a drop of blood in exchange for Allah, Ain Tab fell into Ottoman hands.

*

Yusuf’s main forces in Elbistan moved towards Maraş.

The distance between the two places was so close that a messenger could easily make the round trip in less than a day, but Yusuf did not rush.

Instead, he began the march at a pace that felt almost leisurely.

-Is it too comfortable? Is this okay?

-The Padishah must have his reasons.

It was to the extent that such conversations were common among the regular soldiers.

When he declared that he would take Bozkurt’s life, who had betrayed after occupying Maraş, he had prepared for rapid marching, which made him feel even more so.

‘Beheading Bozkurt before he could flee wouldn’t be difficult.’

He could mobilize 30,000 men, which wasn’t a small number, but for the elite Ottoman army, they would be little more than scarecrows.

What was there to fear from a force of around 20,000 Qizilbash who had once fled in fright?

The reason for moving slowly towards the enemy capital Maraş was all part of the plan.

Yusuf checked the letter that had just arrived via the messenger.

“It seems the follow-up troops have joined the newly occupied Ain Tab.”

By now, Bozkurt must have heard the news that Ain Tab had been taken.

While the force stationed there was only 40,000, they were enough that the Mamluks would not easily attack.

Yusuf passed the letter to the Grand Vizier, standing next to him, and asked the gathered officials.

“Have you felt suffocated during our easy movements?”

In response to Yusuf’s question, the Beylerbey of Rumelia, referring to the Balkan Peninsula, replied with a smile.

“Did it prove difficult to restrain the brave sons of Rumelia?”

“Surely they’re in their prime. Is that not so?”

His jest about being one of the younger participants in the war made everyone burst into laughter.

Though it was a joke, there were certainly many who had been eager to wait.

War could be a horrifying nightmare for some, while it was an opportunity for others.

The simplest way to rise in rank was to achieve merit on the battlefield.

After lightening the atmosphere with laughter, Yusuf grabbed the gun he always kept by his side.

“The prey wandering around without knowing it was a death trap has now fallen into the snare.”

Bozkurt would surely be shocked to hear the news that Ain Tab had been occupied.

With the 40,000 troops led by Dukagincade, he would be prevented from fleeing to the Mamluks.

‘Of course, if he were to abandon all his troops and flee with just a handful, it would be difficult to catch him.’

But that would never happen.

Those 30,000 troops were essential for him to maintain his power.

How could he have disregarded the vital capital while preserving that force when the Safavids attacked?

Given that he would betray the Ottomans for power, he would definitely try to preserve that force.

“Above, we are descending, and below, 40,000 allies are blocking the retreat.”

For Bozkurt, it must feel like choking death was near.

Only by wasting a few days, he found himself with a knife to his throat.

“A trapped beast will struggle to break free. Let’s see how they flail. Grand Vizier.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“Inform the entire army. Charge at full speed towards Maraş.”

“I will obey your command!”

Upon Yusuf’s command, the music of the silent military band rang through the troops with the sound of drums.

It was a signal to advance.

Hearing that Yusuf’s main forces were rapidly moving south to occupy Maraş, Bozkurt led his 30,000 troops to flee.

*

In the Ramazan Emirate, protected by the Taurus Mountains, which rose like the back of an ox, a guest had arrived.

“Please, spare me!”

“Are you crazy?! Where do you think this is?!”

Mahmud Bey, the lord of the Ramazan Emirate, shouted at Bozkurt with a horrified expression.

The name of the guest was called calamity.